


Divide

by mykokoro



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Divide, Drabbles, Ed Sheeran - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot Collection, Romance, Short, Suggestive Themes, VictUuri, and one about toshiya & hiroko!, at least sometimes - there's a couple aus or mixed up times in here, because he's actually great lets be honest, desperate Victor, ok and there's one about georgi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-09-28 15:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 6,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10126244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mykokoro/pseuds/mykokoro
Summary: A collection of Victor and Yuuri focused oneshots inspired by Ed Sheeran's "Divide".





	1. Eraser

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! First of all, thank you for checking out this work. It means that you probably like the same two things as I do. Ed Sheeran could write a song about scotch tape and I would still consider him revolutionary in music lmao. Listening to his album for about the 85739456th time, I heard some really good parallels between the lyrics and the feelings/relationship of Victor + Yuuri, so I decided to combine my two favourite things into a little "album" of my own writing.
> 
> tl;dr I would die for ed sheeran and also yuri on ice so here's both of them together.

Victor can’t remember the last time he was this alone. He taps his empty glass against the counter, bartender unscrewing the whiskey bottle and turning it as gold liquid pours from its lip. Sliding the drink closer, Victor slouches over the cup with alcohol perfume seeping between his lips. The bar is bathing in burgundy, red-tinted lights and backlit liquor shelves enveloping exhausted men with loosened ties. The whiskey sends a toffee taste onto his tongue. Victor’s taste buds tingle when they meet warm company; the booze starts in his mouth and moves through his body. He can feel everything dulling again. One sip takes away a bit of the pain, and if he drinks enough, Victor will forget it was ever there.

There’s a gold medal laying on his hotel bedsheets, but it doesn’t matter. The joy isn’t there anymore, or the pride. He can’t be in his room pre-paid for by the assumption of talent, showing a downward curve in his lips when he has it all. Life should be easy for Victor. Fun. He’s rich, famous, loved by the world, and what’s left? If the public knew it was a line of desperate refills to drown the sound of support, he would be selfish. You can’t complain when you have it all.

But the pain is still there, and it’s all Victor has. Ice swimming in caramel-colored poison, dark faces and unquestioned privacy curtains him from the world that watches. Even though he’s done so much to get here, frenzied practice and reckless injuries, now everything is guaranteed. It was a dangerous wish, Victor realizes, to hope for sureness. The struggles of success are just as real as those of failure, but it’s far too late to understand that now.

The toxic redolence is permeating his state of mind, so Victor stops. He slides the empty cup away from him, ice shifting and creating high tones against the glass. A twenty-dollar bill from the corner of his jeans is all it takes to pay away the sweet taste. Standing from the barstool, Victor shoves his hands in his pockets and leaves the bar with drooping eyes.

It’s just another one to take the sting away.


	2. Castle on the Hill

Hot air tickles Yuuri’s ankles, bullet train pulling into the station. Stepping from the platform, he settles himself in one of many rows of cushioned seats and tucks his bag underneath. He pops headphones into his ears and leans his head back. The train pulls back a little, then rolls forward, jolting the passengers and smoothing into motion.  Sheltered benches blur into mountains foggy behind rolling plains. The tracks send bumps into the floor and shift Yuuri’s feet a little each time.

Looking out the window, the faint imprint of Yuuri’s reflection on the glass frames the scenery blending into coloured lines. A long stretch of terrain bridges the gap between Fukuoka and Hasetsu, from rice fields to suburbs beside the rail. Every merging shade fills Yuuri’s heart with a sense of nostalgia. Pieces of scenery fit into an imperfect picture of empty ballet studios, clouds outside middle school windows, worn out ice skates thrown in hand-me-down sports bags. Hasetsu is where Yuuri grew up. It wasn’t perfect, but it what it lacked in friend groups and late-night parties, it made up for in steaming bowls of miso and figure skating magazines from the gas station across the bridge. It was where he had never-pursued crushes and made stupid mistakes, and though they were worth only pain at the time, they made Yuuri who he is today.

There’s something about an imperfect childhood that makes Yuuri miss the way it feels when everything goes wrong, because things were so much littler then.

Just for once, Yuuri doesn’t loathe coming home.


	3. Dive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok honestly this song is so powerful and serious but Victor's dramatic ass would totally be thinking like this the whole time between seasons when Yuuri hadn't contacted him lmao

“Pull it together Victor.” The grumbling tone pulls Victor from his phone, mouth wrinkled into a frown.

“But Yakov, he hasn’t said anything since that night,” he whines, holding out an Instagram page covered in the same raven-haired man in the background of hundreds of pictures. “And the only pictures of him are posted by his friend, so how am I supposed to know what _he’s_ doing?”

“You’re not,” Yakov retorts. “Get your ass to the rink.”

With a sigh, Victor slides the covers from his skates and pushes the dasher board door. That night, after a Japanese man he had never noticed before pulled him in to dance, he had fallen hopelessly. The moment he met those burgundy eyes shifted hopefully with drunken excitement, he was done for. Every morning since then was a silent prayer that the smudged phone number scrawled on Yuuri’s arm had left an impression.

 _Isn’t there any way he’d want to call me after all that?_ Victor’s eyebrows upturn as he glides onto the ice. The music starts playing, and without thinking, his body remembers the motion and skates to the melody. _Was leaving a box of chocolates outside his hotel room too bold?_ Then again, nothing could be that bold when Yuuri had been stripped to his boxers pressed against Victor’s chest.

Sunspots stream through the rink glass and imprint on his eyes, nearby skaters blurring as Victor lands a double axel. His head fills with thoughts of Yuuri. He doesn’t know anything about him, but it feels like he’s been with the Japanese man his whole life. The similar style to his own in Yuuri’s skating, the quiet personality loudening with empty champagne glasses…Before he knows it, Victor’s wondering what kind of home he lives in and what his family’s like, which foods he likes or if he could get used to Russian cuisine, and whether he’s a dog person or a cat person (because God help if he and Makkachin have to spend more time around cat people).

The music stops and pulls Victor from the chaos he’s found peace in. His arms fall to his side and he wipes sweat from his browbone.

“That was pathetic,” Yuri shouts from the bench, leaning his head on his hand and sticking his tongue out.

Yakov smashes his head against the boards. “That Japanese Yuuri better do something soon, or so help me.”

It’s months later, at the next competition, when Victor wonders something new. A gold medal is in his hands with his teeth glimmering in camera flashes. _Does Yuuri lead everyone on like this? Surely there have been others…_ Yuuri’s not at the final this year, and Victor can’t help but miss him. Yakov would say something like ‘it’s not like you knew him anyway’, but the pain in his chest says otherwise. _Maybe I’ll never get a sign._ He passes the hotel rooms, one by one, and thinks maybe Yuuri never took those chocolates, and that they’ll really never see each other again.

Victor is in for a pleasant surprise.


	4. Shape of You

The bedroom door clicks. Moonlight traces untucked dress shirts and casts dark reflections on lowered eyelids. Yuuri’s body is pressed against Victor’s, alcohol tracing his breath. The heat is aftermath of tequila shots and uncounted bottles, tightening chests and loosening neckties. Their lips press together aimlessly, every kiss shortening the distance between them. Victor’s cologne imbues the air between their bodies, mixing with the idling scent of booze.

“Yuuri.” Victor breathes against the man’s neck, hands cupping Yuuri’s hips. His fingers slip under the seam of the man’s shirt, hot hands imprinting cold skin.

“Victor,” Yuuri returns, voice quiet against the shell of Victor’s ear. Hands shaking, he trails to the first button of the Russian’s shirt and loosens a button.

Victor looks up. Blue eyes meet brown, and in one shared gaze, the room is bathed in dark light. Yuuri wraps his legs around Victor’s hips, the man’s grip on his waist supporting his weight as they separate from the wall. Head falling onto the mattress, Yuuri pulls Victor’s body back into him. Victor is tracing his spine now, touch lingering on each bump it finds. Yuuri’s eyes squeeze shut and he feels his way down the buttons on his lover’s shirt. Goosebumps rise as fabric pulls away from skin. The heat in the air flushes their cheeks and dissipates the uneasiness as the moment slows.

In the vespertine glow of late nights and bare skin, hearts push and pull like magnets under ruffled sheets. Hot and cold all melt into one, and everything basks in the feeling.


	5. Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok tbh this is the thinking out loud of this album and it is so sweet and i love ed so much i just can't with this song

Victor sees his future reflected in another man’s eyes. Blades of grass tickle at his feet, bare toes sinking into the soil. The moon is shattered into a million pieces in stars across the dark sky blending into dancing silhouettes. A breeze brushes past his skin, and traces of summer warmth in the air coat his arms in goosebumps.

“I look like a mess.” Yuuri’s tone shifts the burgundy shades in his eyes when he speaks. A smile is creased into his cheeks.

Victor breathes out, a grin coming with it. He lowers his head to touch noses with Yuuri, holding him by hand and waist. “You look perfect.” The words come out quietly, but when they pass through Yuuri’s ears, they are the clearest thing he’s ever heard.

Before Yuuri can smile any wider, he slides his hand from Victor’s shoulder up to his ear and pulls him in close. Their lips collide, soft against each other. Fingertips trace little bumps in the skin they meet. Everything slows around them, music lazing into a low melody. Eyes flutter shut as hearts open into loving arms. It’s only when their lips part that they open them again, only to gaze into the endless promise of one another.

“You _are_ perfect.” Yuuri returns. Victor’s heart dives, with the clasping of hands, with Yuuri’s fingers combing through the hairs on the nape of his neck, with the gentle passion in familiar eyes. His body follows the motion, mouth opening in a grin wider than it can reach.

Victor finds everything he’s hoped for in a pair of brown eyes. In Yuuri, there is more than someone to depend on. There is someone with which to share secrets and a home. Without even having to search, he finds hope and trust and honesty. More than anything, though, in these places he would never have thought to look, Victor finds love.


	6. Galway Girl

Yuuri wonders if he’s creepy. He’s made awkward seconds of eye contact with a man across the pub three or four times now, only because his timing admiring him is always terrible. _Is it weird to think he’s that cute? Or to look at him that much?_ Yuuri looks down at his beer, cheeks reddening at the thought of him. He lifts the glass mug to his lips and takes a swig in an attempt to distract himself.

“Hey.” Yuuri looks up in search for the source of the voice. Beer fills his cheeks, threatening to spill from his lips. Standing above him is the silver-haired man he’d eyed across the bar, smirk stretched across his face.

Yuuri forces himself to swallow. “H-hi.” _Damnit, Yuuri. You can’t even talk properly._

“Is this seat taken?” The man gestures to the chair beside Yuuri, turquoise eyes softening.

“Oh no. Go ahead,” Yuuri says, maybe a little too urgently.

Handsome-guy-from-across-the-bar pulls up his seat and leans his elbows on the table. “I’m Victor.”

Everything after that is a blur to Yuuri. He remembers Victor buying him another drink, and another, and maybe another one after that. They played a game of pool, which he lost horribly, followed by darts, which had the same outcome. At some point, Victor took him by the hand, and Yuuri found himself pressed against the man he thought he’d never get close to. They danced and stumbled around the pub until cold air hit Yuuri’s face. There was a blurred walk between streetlights, and warm air heating him up again.

When Yuuri wakes up, head pounding, it’s only little moments he remembers. An empty bag of Doritos is sprawled on the coffee table, and a finished wine bottle is knocked on its side. He’s on a couch in someone’s house that isn’t his.

“Good morning.” A strangely familiar voice startles him. Yuuri shoots up, blanket over his legs falling onto the sofa. Victor comes into the living room, hair ratted and eyes tired.

“Victor…good morning,” Yuuri speaks calmly, but his mind is chaos. _Should I ask him what happened? God, this is why I can’t get drunk…How do I bring it up?_

Victor sees a lingering doubt in Yuuri’s eyes and grins. “Don’t worry. Last night was a little fun, that’s all.” Yuuri’s eyes widen and meet Victor’s. In that moment, his cheeks go red and his chest tightens.

One thought clears away all his hesitation: _maybe last night was just the beginning._


	7. Happier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not updating yesterday, I was on a strings orchestra tour with my school all day and had class at night. Regardless, I hope this chapter is as emotional as I was when I was writing it.

“You’ll feel it too someday.”

Victor looks down, lips creasing into a forced smile. “Thanks, Chris.” He’s walking down the street, trees blooming green and enveloping the city in brightness. Sunlight streams through the leaves, casting spots that dance on the pavement under Victor’s shoes.

 _I’ve already felt it._ He perches himself on a bench and opens his mouth. “I’ll let you go now.” His voice is raw, empty. Chris lets out a little breath on the other end of the call.

“Talk to me whenever, okay?” Looking into his lap, Victor lets out a halfhearted ‘mm’ in response. Just like that, he hangs up.

Leaning back, Victor’s head hits the back of the bench. He closes his eyes and lets the sun prod red shades into the darkness. When his throat goes dry, Victor isn’t ready to feel this way again. There will be a bitter taste in his mouth and the corners of his eyes will pinch with the threat of tears. Fiddling with his hands, he pinches the piece of skin between his thumb and index. After feeling the same thing so many times, Victor’s found that sometimes pain takes the sadness away.

Once he’s sure the tears won’t fall, he opens his eyes and lowers his head. The passersby are chatting, some shoulder-to-shoulder, and Victor wills himself not to overthink it. He’s tired of thinking.

It doesn’t take any thought to realize who passes him next, though. A dark-haired man has his arm around the image from his head. Yuuri is clutching a bag, peering up at the man beside him with a smile. His eyes are closed, they way they do when he’s truly happy about something. All at once, the feeling comes back, and it’s all Victor can do to choke back the reaction.

In a moment, Yuuri turns around, and Victor knows he isn’t imagining it when they meet eyes. Yuuri’s smile slowly fades, falling and letting his chin drop a little. Victor wants to close his eyes, to run away, to pretend. But he’s frozen, and there’s nothing left in him to pretend. A sad look shifts in the brown eyes reflected in his pupils. Yuuri’s eyebrows move together, and every piece of his complexion is sympathetic.

For a moment, Victor thinks everything’s how it used to be. They’re looking at each other, and time is stopped. The world disappears into his eyelids raising at the sight of him, glowing in the shine of spring, clothes ruffling in the gentle breeze.

Yuuri’s eyes linger and then pull away as he turns around. His body pulls closer to the man beside him. _Look back._ Victor thinks. _Look back. Look back._ It’s his only thought, and it’s desperate.

Yuuri keeps walking, and the only thing in the world he can see is someone that isn’t Victor.

The world seems a lot colder now, breeze harsh against his skin and shade billowing over him. His voice flounders when it reaches that cold world. “I am still in love with you.”

And everything goes on, as though nothing had ever been said.


	8. New Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K so if victuuri ever broke up (which would never happen) it would be a lot more like "happier" and a lot less like "new man". as such, I've decided to pay my respects to the unsung hero of yoi...

The sound bounces from high rink ceilings when a phone hits the ground.

“Oh God, he’s at it again.” Yuri rolls his eyes and cups a hand around his mouth. “Mila! Get over here!”

“Yeah, yeah…” Mila perches herself on the bench beside the hunched skater and puts her hand on his back.

“WHY DID ANYA LEAVE ME?!” Georgi shoots up, tears streaming from his eyes.

Mila shoots Yuri a dirty look. _Why am I the one who always has to deal with this?_  She wipes the expression off her face and looks back down at Georgi. “It’s okay…you said yourself her new boyfriend’s a loser anyway right?”

“YES! He wears shoes with no socks and eats kale chips! What kind of person does that? An ASSHOLE!” Georgi shouts through sniffling breaths, spit flying from his mouth with every word.

Wiping a drop of saliva that isn’t hers from the corner of her mouth, Mila forces a smile. “Well, then there’s nothing to worry about since she’s chosen so awfully. It’s her loss.”

Georgi slowly rises, parting from the bench and glancing out onto the ice with thought. “You’re right.” He spins on his toes, grabbing Mila by the shoulders and shaking her. “Mila, you’re right! ANYA IS A PIECE OF TRASH!”

“And off he goes again,” Yuri says under his breath and smirks at Mila.

She stares Yuri dead in the eye and responds, “Next time it’s your turn.”

And so the rink returns to normal, Georgi haggling Yakov to let him on the ice to cast his dark magic on Anya once more.


	9. Hearts Don't Break Around Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K here's cheese... god I love them

There’s a place Yuuri knows where nothing ever goes wrong. Here, orange shadows ripple over creased bedsheets. Unframed photos plaster the walls and unnoticed medals drape over console tables, bedroom clutter piling in books and sticky notes. The sunset is watercolour, darker with each colour seeping into the next. Warm light streams through the windows and dust dances in its rays. In this place, there’s a home and everything that makes it one.

Makkachin’s weight shifts at the foot of the bed, fur tickling Yuuri’s toes and then springing from the mattress. He finds a replacement for the warmth just as quickly. The bottoms of his feet rub against another man’s socks, fingers tangled in a bed of hair. He looks up and meets a pair of blue eyes that wrinkle when they see him. Yuuri finds himself lost in that blue, boundless and light as if a whole world is hiding behind the colour. ‘Victor’ is his only thought, and he thinks it with the feeling of hands against his waistline and the nose pressed against his face. Yuuri finds his hands working higher into Victor’s hair, parting the strands and brushing against his scalp. Victor’s grip against him tightens and their bodies press closer. Everything falls into place.

The next second, Yuuri finds his lips against Victor’s. Birds tweet intertwining melodies and bend around trees, breeze following a gentle waltz outside the glass, all the sounds and the light enveloping this moment. Yuuri’s eyes are closed, but he finds himself seeing with all the sensations. The world slows for them, legs and arms tangled between each other for what seems like an eternity. It’s an eternity Yuuri wouldn’t mind spending, he decides, and for lack of breath, the kiss comes apart.

“We’re in love, aren’t we?” The words pass through his ears in a whisper. Victor’s lips hardly resist curving into a smile.

Yuuri’s thumbs draw on his cheekbone, eyes flitting to meet again. “Yeah.” He exhales. “We really are.”

A laugh escapes his next breath. Yuuri knows that even if this place or this moment aren’t an eternity, at least this is an endless love.


	10. What Do I Know?

Underneath Victor, the world sways. The boundless sky blends into the sea that tickles at the ankles of the sand. Everything tips back and forth, palm trees framing the scene. He shifts a little and the fabric underneath him stretches with the movement. Victor looks up from his book and lets himself feel the breeze brush through his hair. Setting the novel on his lap, he gazes out into the limitless warmth. His eyes close and he can hear every wave as it touches each grain of beach, and every unfamiliar bird calling to its mate.

He’s been through a lot. More than being through things, Victor has done a lot. There are things he’s done people will notice; he’s won more gold medals than he can count and is praised as the world’s greatest skater. What matters to him, though, are the things people don’t notice, but make all the difference. He disappeared from the ice one year, and after that, nothing he had done seemed so important anymore. Victor met Yuuri. He met his world. For a moment, looking into that endless stage, Victor thinks that if everyone could know the same, they would be happy.

There’s a reason why the gold medals or the fans don’t matter as much anymore. Victor knows now that exactly what he missed in those years of winning was something as obvious as love. With Yuuri here, and Makkachin, he could be in brutal winter and the scenery would still look as bright.

“Victor!” Yuuri’s voice calls him from thought. He’s ankle-deep in the water with his pants rolled up, arms beckoning for Victor to join him.

A smile crawls its way to Victor’s lips. He plants his toes in the sand and pushes himself from the hammock. With every second he’s lucky enough to be with Yuuri, he realizes more and more, even if the world doesn’t agree with his realizations.

 _Love can change the world in a moment._ Victor thinks one last time before the water sends goosebumps onto his skin. Yuuri’s arms fall around him, and Victor smiles.   _But what do I know?_


	11. How Would You Feel?

 “Come on,” Phichit says. “Don’t be shy.” He nudges Yuuri’s back, pushing him onto the open floor. Yuuri looks back at him and rolls his eyes. Biting down a smile, Yuuri takes slow steps on the tiled floor.

Victor is waiting for him when he arrives. His cheeks lift as he smiles and holds out a hand to Yuuri. “May I have this dance?”

Yuuri places his fingers in Victor’s palm. “Of course.” Victor’s hand curls around his and their bodies pull close. A slow serenade fills the banquet hall, high ceilings and granite floors echoing the resonating notes. Yuuri finds his hand on Victor’s shoulder and Victor’s around his waist. Their feet move to the rhythm, finding a beat and waltzing with each other. Victor looks into his lover’s eyes as they sway. Yuuri’s face relaxes, muscles all falling and curving into a smile.

Chris and Phichit are whispering in the background. Yuri is making faces of disgust as Otabek quietly sips his drink. All the clattering of plates, the clicking of heels on the floor. None of them register when Yuuri finds Victor. Instead, the music is crisp in his ears and the beating of his heart against his ribs is pulsing through his skin.

The bridge of the song begins, and Victor grins like a fool. He spins Yuuri around him and finds that he’s back in his arms just as quickly.

“How would you feel?” Victor says abruptly, hovering above Yuuri’s ear. Yuuri gives him a puzzled look. He gestures to the source of the music with a glance. “If I told you I loved you.”

There’s a moment of quiet before Yuuri exhales a laugh. “That’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“But I still want to hear it from you,” Victor replies with a puppy-like stare.

Yuuri looks at his feet as if to hide his stupid smile. He looks back up and lets his hand slide up to touch Victor’s neck. “I would be the happiest man in the world.”

Smiles reluctantly leaving their shapes, Victor and Yuuri’s lips meet. The surrounding skaters whistle and clap, and still, all Yuuri hears is the sound of Victor’s subtle ‘I love you’.

The music fades. Victor reluctantly pulls their noses from each other. When he tries to let go, Yuuri squeezes his hand tighter.

This year, they’ve both found more happiness than they could have ever imagined.


	12. Supermarket Flowers

Yuuri realizes that he’s never remembered until now. Maybe it’s because he’s never had to, or because he never thought to, but this is the first time. He remembers how much life every room used to have. The way her smile triggered a chain reaction and her whole body lit up with warmth. How whenever she was there, everything seemed like it would be okay. Now, when he needs everything to be okay, there’s nothing left.

Yuuri’s hands linger on the folded nightgowns packed in a case. Cards are shaking in the grip of his other hand, get well messages rattling and falling away from the paper. The crinkling of plastic is sharp in the small room as he nestles the bouquet in the crook of his elbow.

He turns, winter air slipping through the cracks of the windows and hitting his back. Victor is standing at the entrance, eyes wrinkled and red underneath. “I’ll drive,” is all he says before giving a weak smile and holding the door open.

Time slurs into a blur of colours and noises, different shades of cement as Yuuri looks down at his feet. Before he knows it, he’s sitting in the passenger seat of the rental car, hands trembling. The only motion he can remember is looking to Victor.

“Don’t cry when you’re down, Yuuri.” Toshiya had said, sitting in his armchair and ruffling his son’s hair. “Stay strong.”

Yuuri blinks and his father’s words fall apart. Victor’s lips are quivering now, watching the tears fall every time Yuuri’s eyelashes split down. He lifts his hand to his husband’s cheek and brushes away each drop as it falls.

“Welcome home, Yuuri.” Her voice was soft. It was soft, and it was warm. That day, Yuuri held a gold medal in one hand and a husband in the other. She was there, and she saw who he was, and everything that came after.

Yuuri collapses into Victor. His hands are clutching Victor’s shirt, fabric catching ever desperate tear. Everything falls apart, breath coming out as a hysterical shout, chest contracting from the pain. Victor’s fingers push into Yuuri’s hair and cradle his head, shaking as they do.

Yuuri knows that even if the photo album and the flowers, the nightgowns and the cards are adorned with all her beauty, the world isn’t anymore. All he can do is cling to the everything she left in his heart.


	13. Bibia Be Ye Ye

Lately, Yuuri’s world is bathed in gold. The wedding band on his finger splits rays of sunshine, summer breeze ruffling his hair, and though there’s one shoe on his feet and only spare change in his pockets, those little things make everything fine. Grass tickles at his ears, eyes adjusting to the light. Yuuri sits up and props himself on his elbows. A green canopy billows above him and casts shade around the spot where he lays.

The events of last night are fuzzy except for a few details. He remembers throwing up in the back seat of a cab and collapsing the next place he found. For a moment, he realizes he’s not panicking, and he can’t believe it. Yuuri’s shock melts into a smile, though, and he’s happy with the way he’s changed. Brushing the leaves from his pants as he stands, Yuuri looks around. The tree sheltering him is atop a hill overlooking the city, all its shades of green and blue blending into a bustling scene.

 _I wonder when it was that I stopped panicking about these kinds of things,_ Yuuri wonders as he descends the hill. He doesn’t know where he’s going. He doesn’t remember where his keys went, and he still only has one shoe, so that’s an issue. _Well, I guess I’ll catch a bus into town…_ He plays with the coins in his jeans.

When he reaches the bottom of the hill, Yuuri looks back up. Seeing the oak tree, shedding its leaves into the warm air, he remembers. _I guess it was then that I stopped worrying._ His eyes wrinkle with fondness. _The time that I met him._

A dark shape below the tree catches his eye. Adjusting his dirty glasses, Yuuri squints at the figure.

“Ah! My shoe!” Yuuri bolts back up the hill, toes sinking into the grass. No matter what happens, everything seems gold. Maybe because it is, or because he thinks it is. Whatever the reason, there’s only one thing he can accredit it to.

The moment his world turned golden was when Yuuri met Victor.


	14. Nancy Mulligan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok no one can tell me the katsukis arent the best parents/family ever

Toshiya Katsuki considers himself Japan’s luckiest man. Sitting across from his is proof. Everything about her, from the wrinkled lines of her face to her short grey locks, is nothing short of perfect.

She’s just as beautiful as she was then. Working in a café, summer breeze ruffling her dark brown hair pulled neatly into a bun. He sat himself at a table and nervously ordered the first thing he saw on the menu. Hiroko’s smile charmed him once, and it has every day since.

And just like that time, she has an endearing stubbornness about her. When Toshiya mustered up all the courage he had to ask her father for her hand, she had strong words for his response. She cursed her way all the way out of that old Japanese home, dragging Toshiya along with her. They eloped and Hiroko wore his name with pride.

Before he knew it, Toshiya was holding a daughter in his arms and begging her to stop wailing. Shortly after, a son came and he started crying too. Every morning he got to wake up next to Hiroko, though, and no crayon on the walls could make that any less valuable. She’s still no less calm in dealing with cuts and bruises. He watched those kids grow into successful adults, and Hiroko practices the same kindness on their grandchildren.

“I love you, Hiroko.” Toshiya says suddenly, meeting her eyes from his armchair.

Hiroko places her old hands on her cheeks. “Well aren’t you a sweet one, Toshiya.”

“I love you too, Yuuri!” Victor jumps on top of Yuuri, forcing a chuckle from Toshiya. Mari grins and finishes a braid in her niece’s hair.

 _Our love knows no age_ , Toshiya thinks, and the whole family roars as Sagan Tosu scores another goal.


	15. Save Myself

The hotel room lock rings behind him. Yuuri sits on the edge of his bed, body welling up. It’s strangling him up to his chest, this feeling seeping through each one of his pores, shouting over and over again that he’s not good enough.

The palm of his hand tingles as a buzzing sensation spreads its surface. His mom’s contact photo is smiling brightly on his phone screen. Yuuri doesn’t know what else to do, so he accepts the call.

“It’s okay, Yuuri.” The words come from the other end as soon as it connects. Yuuri opens his mouth, but his throat is dry and he can’t speak. “I just want you to know that it’s okay.”

His lips are quivering now, threatening to spill out with everything he wants to say even though the words won’t form in his head.

“We are all so proud of you, Yuuri,” She continues. “No matter what.”

Somehow, those words are enough to tip him over the edge. When he needs comfort, as soon as it comes, everything crumbles. Yuuri’s wondered why that is for a long time, but before he can finish the thought the tears are overwhelming him and he can’t wonder more than that.

Knowing that he can’t speak now, with the choked breaths coming through the line, Hiroko only says one more thing before hanging up. “I love you.”

A sob escapes his mouth, spewing out of him as a shout. Thin walls and carpet floors can hardly contain all of the things he is feeling, and more than upset, Yuuri is mad at the world for not being wide enough to hold all of the things he wants to scream from every inch of his body.

He cries, and he cries, and he cries until there are no more tears left. Yuuri’s mouth is wide open the whole time, shouting and wailing. His chest contracts sporadically with his desperate breaths and nothing is enough to hold all of these things.

Letting his breathing slow, every one coming as a hiccup from his chest, Yuuri collapses on the bed. He puts his hands over his eyes and scrunches his face so not to let everything build again.

Before he can say ‘I love you’ back, Yuuri needs to learn to love himself.


	16. Barcelona

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is so hard to believe this is already over! My love for the album is just as strong as it was when I started this, and while there were some bumps in the road I am glad that I was able to combine my two loves. I would just like to thank everyone for reading one last time and wish every one of you a wonderful day wherever you are. I hope you enjoyed!

More than anything, Victor doesn’t want this night to end. Yuuri is spinning around him, new tie loose around his shirt. Music echoes in the banquet hall, skaters mingling and dancing around them. Just moments ago, he was slow dancing with Yuuri out of love and devotion, and in just a couple of drinks they’re both back to the way they were when they first knew each other. Maybe Yuuri doesn’t remember that night, but Victor will never forget.

He was like an angel. His tie was pushed all the way up his forehead, tangling in between ratted hairs. The scent of alcohol imbued his breath. His body moved to the music, hips swinging without a thought to every new note that flooded the room. Yuuri was a drunken mess that night, and yet Victor couldn’t help but find himself falling in love. It was fast, and he didn’t even realize what was happening before he woke up the next morning longing to see Yuuri one more time.

Now Victor’s here, a ring on his finger to match that of Yuuri’s, holding their bodies close as they dance just like they did a year ago. How did it happen that the world brought them together, one chaos of a night all coming back to this?

“Victor,” Yuuri whispers into the shell of his ear, pulling him away from his thoughts. “Let’s go somewhere.”

His words send a shiver down Victor’s spine. He nods and lets Yuuri take him away. They slip out into the night air. Victor doesn’t bother asking where they’re going. Wherever it is, as long as he’s with Yuuri, he’s happy.

Yuuri’s eyes are sparkling. Just like they did the night before the competition, the man is aglow with curiosity. The brisk air sends goosebumps onto his skin, brushing through his hair and illuminating his cheeks with a shade of red.

“This is it, huh?” Yuuri stops, bringing Victor around to his side. The Barcelona Cathedral towers above them, lights adorning the lines in stone and bathing the building in yellow. “Where we got engaged.”

Victor’s mouth opens a little. He turns to Yuuri. The man is looking up at him, that perfect glimmer in his eyes, and laughs a little as his mouth opens into a grin.

Squeezing Yuuri’s hand, Victor feels the ring there. “We’re engaged.” He says it as if he can hardly believe it.

“We’re engaged,” Yuuri copies. He squeezes Victor’s hand just as tightly.

“We’re engaged,” Victor says again, and this time he’s sure. He says it loud this time.

“I am going to marry you, Victor Nikiforov,” Yuuri grabs Victor’s cheeks with cold fingers.

Victor slides his hands around Yuuri’s waist. “I am going to spend the rest of my life with you, Yuuri Katsuki.”

There’s a moment of silence before their laughter fills the air. It’s so late that it’s early morning, and all the tourists have abandoned the streets. It’s just Victor and Yuuri. The Cathedral is bright behind them, second only to the joy between them.

“I am so in love with you.” The words slip, quietly, from between Victor’s lips.

Yuuri closes his eyes and puts his forehead against Victor’s. He exhales. “I love you, too, Victor.”

No matter how drunk, or chaotic, or messy this night is, Victor knows it will never really end. Just as last year was the beginning of their season, this year is far from an ending.

“Tonight’s the beginning of us.”

The night goes on, sparkling with sangria and loud music, bars with late closing times and love-struck drunks. In Barcelona, on a restless night just like this, Victor once found a drunken man. Here, now, in Barcelona, on a glorious, restless, chaotic night, Victor finds the love of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so much for reading! If you haven't listened to the album seriously go peek at it. Ed is a hero. If you enjoyed my spin on his songs, please leave kudos, comments, bookmarks, share, etc!! Feedback is THE BEST thing and it always puts a smile on my face seeing how people respond to my writing. And, as always, I am looking to improve, so if you have any constructive criticism or advice on how I can improve please let me know! Once again, thank you for reading and have a wonderful day/night wherever you are. <3


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